


Treasures

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Challenge: Pooh Bear Challenge, Drama, First Times, M/M, Romance, Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 05:21:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair's bad day takes a turn for the better when Jim receives a gift from his aunt.  (Companion piece to Purple).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Treasures

Disclaimers: We all know who the Sentinel and  
his Guide belong to,  
though they don't take very good care of them. A Guide can only be  
damp so long before he catches a cold, or worse.

Notes: I know it's not exactly finished, there needs to be a couple more installments, and there will be, just as soon as somebody tells me what happens. Fictional characters can be so annoyingly close-mouthed when they want to be! 

## 

Treasures

(companion to Purple)  
by  
Lady Dagger

Blair Sandburg was having a very bad day. He loved the university and he loved teaching but it was that time of year again. Every statement or anecdote was greeted with the same refrain; 'Will this be on the test?' The consistent response of 'perhaps' eventually silenced even the most thickheaded. He hadn't decided what to put on the final yet, but he was currently leaning toward comprehensive short-answer. He was definitely in a bad mood. Sometimes he wondered why they were even in college. Knowledge certainly didn't seem to be their goal. 

He was receiving pressure about his dissertation from his advisor, demanding memos, phone and email messages, almost to the point of harassment. And yet, when he tried to respond, for clarification or guidance, the man was unavailable. In fact, Blair had begun to wonder whether the man was even employed at the university anymore. And on top of everything else, it was Tuesday. Again. Another long, lonely day without Jim. 

Blair hoped this Tuesday would be less nerve wracking than the last one. He leaned back in his chair, listening to the soothing rhythms and remembered what had happened last week. It had been raining, which seemed to be a constant in Cascade. Someone had been parked in his spot and he'd had to park three blocks away. As soon as he began the mad dash for cover, the skies opened and he was drenched between one footstep and the next. The elevator was out of order and he'd trudged up the stairs. The only thing he was looking forward to more than being warm and dry was spending the evening with his roommate. 

Seeing Jim sitting on the couch, crumpled piece of paper clutched in his hand, looking almost stunned had been very disturbing. Jim was his rock, the one constant in his life, the one person he depended on absolutely. Seeing him lost like that had been frightening. Jim looked brittle, easily shattered and Blair wasn't sure what to do, how to help. The only thing he was certain of was that he didn't want to be the one to break Jim's fragile control. 

When Jim looked at him with wounded eyes that seemed to implore him to make things alright and handed him the piece of paper. Quickly reading the note, Blair offered to leave, not wanting to intrude if Jim wanted to be alone, but he really hoped Jim didn't. Alone, was the last thing Jim needed at a time like that, in Blair's opinion anyway. If he were somewhere else, he wouldn't be able to make things easier for Jim, and that was Blair's purpose. He'd quickly showered, and helped Jim make dinner, doing his best to keep things light. He even found himself using the 'guide voice' as Jim called it. Anything to keep Jim grounded in the here and now, with him. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that the slightest inattention on his part would result in Jim slipping away, from him, perhaps forever. Illogical, but true. 

After dinner, he headed to his room, not because he had any intention of leaving Jim on his own, but in case that was what Jim wanted. If Jim hadn't stopped him, he'd have left the door ajar and spent the evening glued to the gap, watching Jim with every ounce of concentration he possessed. Fortunately that wasn't necessary. Jim's one word, 'Stay' had been the answer to a prayer 

When Jim read Aunt Jane's letter and began to cry, Blair's heart froze. He knew Jim's childhood had been pretty bad. Some of the things he'd said when Stephen first came back into his life were very telling, the pain in Jim's eyes, the sorrow... That was when Blair first realized just how important Jim was to him, knew for certain that what he felt for Jim was much more than the love for a brother. It was a rough time, afraid that Stephen would take Jim away from him, and yet, knowing that their relationship needed to be healed, for Jim's sake. Like always, he'd done what was best for Jim, regardless of any consequences it might have for himself. 

Jim in tears was almost more than he could bear, he'd had to touch him, to offer physical comfort, not only for Jim, but for himself as well. He felt Jim's tears soaking through the multiple layers of shirts he habitually wore, Jim's arms clutching him tight, hands working spasmodically on his back, like a cat kneading the flesh. Worried as he was, Blair couldn't help soaking up the sensations. Blair held Jim close, rubbing soothing circles on his strong muscular back, stroking the back of his head, relishing the soft bristly feeling of his hair. There was nowhere he'd rather be than in Jim's arms. Of course, knowing that it wasn't just tears dampening his shirt was a bit of a mood killer. 

Jim eventually regained control of himself, his tears ceasing. He kept his eyes pressed against Blair's shoulder for a moment longer. Then he sniffed, loosening his hold on Blair, who handed him a tissue. Blair watched him as he blew his nose and wiped his face with his shirt sleeve. Jim's face was red, his eyes looked hot and swollen, though he kept them downcast, refusing to look at Blair. Jim settled back against the couch, one arm still around Blair's shoulders, maintaining contact. Blair was thankful for that contact. He settled back into the couch beside Jim, resting his head against Jim's shoulder, their sides touching from shoulders to hips to thighs. He felt guilty for finding such pleasure in contact that was motivated by friendship and comfort, but he did. He loved those moments when Jim touched him, or casually threw an arm across his shoulders. He fit so perfectly under Jim's arm. It felt so right to be there, as if it were really where he belonged. 

Jim hugged him once more and then released him, reaching into the box once more. He pulled out a photo album, settling back beside Blair. Blair sat quietly, watching Jim run his fingers across the embossed leather cover, caressing the letters. Jim opened the album and began looking through the book, sharing the pictures with Blair. Blair treasured each image, from the obligatory naked baby Jim on a white fur rug, through the years. His first bath. Jim wrapped in his mother's arms as she rocked him to sleep. His first birthday, pristine cake before him and the next shot of a grinning, frosting covered face, hands digging into the now demolished cake. Eighteen months old, bowl upturned over his head, spaghetti and sauce dripping down his face. Four years old, sleeping beneath a festive Christmas tree, surrounded by a sea of shredded paper and a mound of previously wrapped presents, oversized stuffed blue dog acting as his pillow. His first day of school. Standing proudly in his cub scout uniform. Jim sleeping, playing, birthdays, holidays and moments of triumph all documented, until the age of nine, then school pictures marked the years. The only non-formal pictures were of his graduations, from eighth grade, high school and boot camp. Jim closed the book and Blair picked it up off his lap and hugged it to him for a moment and then placed it on the couch beside him. 

Jim pulled an old oval portrait from the box. It was a wedding photo and judging from the jaw line of the groom, definitely a member of Jim's family. "My mother's grandparents." 

"You've got his jaw line." 

Jim laid the portrait beside him on the couch and, scooting forward, reached in the box once more. As he pulled the quilt out, a small purple bear fell out as well. Blair caught it before it hit the floor. 

Blair was stunned when he saw what he held in his hand. "Dog! Jim, where did you get this? I had one just like it...." He hadn't thought about Dog in years. He'd had many stuffed protectors over the years and while he had loved each and every one, he'd always found people who needed them more and given them gladly. His mother had always found him another one, until he'd told her he didn't need one anymore. He remembered giving Dog away on a bright summer day. He turned to look at Jim and found him grinning at him. "Do you remember?" 

"That was you." Jim said with assurance, still wearing that rare grin that reached all the way to his eyes. "Now I know. You have a history of not staying where you're supposed to," Jim's voice was tinged with affection. 

Blair wasn't sure how to interpret Jim's attitude. He looked relaxed and happy, the complete opposite of what he'd been when Blair first came home. "Jim, what does this mean?" 

"Come on, Sandburg, you're the one who's into all that karma stuff. This is a sign. Whoever's in charge has spoken, we belong together. You're mine." 

Blair felt like he was traversing a mine field, one wrong step and his whole future could blow up in his face. "Just so I don't misunderstand what you're saying, use little words." 

Jim had been watching him, eyes shining with affection, soft smile on his face. When Blair spoke, he grinned with gentle humor, "Just for you, I'll say it in words of one syllable, Sandburg. I love you and I'm in love with you." 

Blair exhaled in an unsteady breath, "I love you, too, Jim. I just never thought that there could ever be anything between us." 

Jim set his mother's quilt on the couch, over his great-grandparent's portrait, and gathered Blair into his arms. "I don't know if there ever would have been, if not for this, but it would have been fear not lack of emotion that kept me silent." 

***** 

It had been a shock. And yet, it was true. Naomi had always taught him that what was meant to happen, would; he just had to have faith. Still, it was amazing to think that the man he loved today had been that sad, lost boy he met in a field of flowers and butterflies. The Fates, or whoever controlled such things, were definitely smiling on him now. 

Hopefully, their kindness would continue. Tonight Stephen was coming to dinner. Jim was a little nervous, but Blair was even more so. He was almost afraid to go home, but he was even more afraid of not going home. Tonight could mark a major change in Jim's relationship with Stephen, and also his own relationship with Jim. 

They'd been taking things slowly since then, very slowly. Jim seemed ready to move on to more dangerous territory, but Blair insisted that they proceed very carefully. He loved Jim with all his heart and wanted to give expression to that love, but there was no denying that Jim had been through an emotional wringer and might not be thinking clearly. Blair lived in constant fear that Jim would change his mind and he'd lose everything, not just a potential lover but his best friend, family, and his very first home. 

They'd kissed and cuddled, with the occasional grope, but so far there was nothing that couldn't be undone. He hoped. It was all very serene and comfortable, when they were together. But when he was alone, he thought too much and worried. The fact that Jim didn't push the lines he'd drawn was proof enough that he still wasn't himself yet. 

\--The End-- 

ladydagger@geocities.com 

Visit Lady Dagger's Web Site at: <http://www.geocities.com/~ladydagger/>


End file.
